Glimpses of Spring

I realize that March is a fickle month. Some might call her an all out flirt. A tease. Well, despite all that, and despite the fact that the forecast calls for a return to rain and cold weather later in the week, I'm reveling in these glimpses of spring. Days like these are a call to action. It's time to:

Skip down the driveway.

Gaze at Carolina blue skies.

Laugh at the antics of silly dogs who are just as enraptured with a bright sunny day as we are.

Dig in the mud, and come home with dirt caked under your fingernails.

Hitch a ride back up the hill after a jaunt to the mailbox. In fact, today marked the very first ride in the back of a pick-up truck of 2010. All in all, the makings of a lovely, spring day. So, to quote my hat, life is good!

Last Days of Winter

More snow this week. I suppose you could say that March came in like a lion, which leaves me hopeful for the whole easing out like a lamb at the end of the month. We'll see. In any event, snow in March is not so bad. In fact, it's much easier to enjoy it because there is a definite light at the end of the tunnel, which is not the case in January or February when winter seems dark and endless. Plus, this weekend is supposed to be gorgeous, in the 50s and 60s.

Today is Kate's Kindermusik class, and after that she is having a little friend, Molly, spend the day with her. I'm looking forward to it, because Molly is a real sweetheart. Her mom and I went to both high school and college together, and I used to work with Molly's dad. I'm a wee bit nervous though, because, well, two toddlers!

This weekend, we're headed down to stay with some friends in Lenoir, NC. Patrick and Kay put on the yearly Caldwell County Traditional Music Showcase (a consistently amazing show!), and after the show they always host a big soiree at their lovely home. It's one of those pickin' parties that last until the wee hours of the morning, if you can make it that long (which I rarely do).

I'll leave you with a few things catching my fancy lately:

• Kate and I made these granola bars yesterday and oh my! They're rather homely there on the plate, but they taste delicious! I've made my own homemade granola for ages now, but until yesterday had never tried to make actual bars. Well, they were quite a success, albeit more squares than bars. Still, yummy and portable. For the three cups of fruit/nut mixture, I used: 1/2 cup wheat germ, 1 cup almonds, 1/2 cup chocolate chips, 1/2 cup dried cranberries, and 1/2 cup of coconut.

• I read this book, Girls Like Us, a few weeks ago, and never got around to posting about it, but it was exceptional. It's a bit hefty, but reads quickly, much like a novel, and the lives of Carole King, Joni Mitchell, and Carly Simon certainly provide a wealth of fascinating material. Besides being a simple biography of these three women, the book is really a sort of social history of feminism and what it meant to be a woman during the tumultuous years of the 60s and 70s. I found Joni Mitchell the most intriguing, although not always the most likeable, and watched this documentary after reading the book. It's available on Netflix instant play, if you're interested.

• We've been led (okay, pushed might be more like it, by a very strong willed two year old) into the realm of kid's music lately, and to save our sanity, have been seeking out adult friendly kid's music. I'm sorry, but I do not allow obnoxious purple dinosaurs into my home. We just wanted music all of us could enjoy. Elizabeth Mitchell is one of the first such artist's I discovered, and both Kate and I love her! The whole sound is mellow, folky, and acoustic, but very kid (and adult!) friendly. I've spent a lot of time perusing her website, and that of her adult indie band, Ida. I LOVE her independent record label's manifesto. A great NPR interview can be heard here.

Homeschool Preview

Studying the greats with Daddy.

Farewell February!

It's Sunday evening and we're in that zone of both relaxing and gearing up for the coming week. Things have been pretty low key around here this weekend. We got to stay home for one thing, and for another, No Snow! The probability of those two things happening simultaneously has been quite low of late. And even though February went up in my estimation when Miss Katie Mae was born (on Valentine's Day!) two years ago, I can still say that I'm not too sad that it's reached it's end this year. How is it that the shortest month of the year feels soooooo long?

Anyway, a good weekend all around. Saturday, Kate stayed with my Grandmama (how lucky am I to have folks who call me up and insist that I go out and do something, anything, whatever, just so they can spend the afternoon with my little one?), so I got in some serious browsing at the Habitat for Humanity homestore and my favorite antique store, The Tobacco Barn. I brought home a milkglass vase and several books for my new etsy shop. I can't wait for the spring yard sale bonanza!

Saturday night we played at the Blue Mountain, a restaurant here in downtown Weaverville. Mark's best buddy, Milan, was in town from Nashville, so he sat in. And Milan's lovely wife Melanie came along too, which is always fun for me because I come away with a huge list of books to read and movies/tv to watch. Like this. And this.

And that's pretty much it. Excited to welcome March, one step closer to spring.

Happy Birthday to the Man in Black

In the midst of all the shampoo hoopla, I neglected the most important thing about today! Shame on me. Today would have been Johnny Cash's 78th birthday. Okay, I didn't technically know this until I got in the car and turned on the radio, but still. I bet you would be hard pressed to find a country/Americana artist who doesn't claim Johnny Cash as a major influence. I grew up singing so many of his songs, from "Boy Named Sue" to "Fulsome Prison" to "Sunday Morning Coming Down." Although Willie Nelson was the unchallenged favorite in my house growing up (we've often referred to Willie as the patron saint of our family, which probably doesn't do much for the concept of sainthood....), Cash held a prominent role as well, and his deep melancholy growl is etched into the furthest reaches of my memory.

As much as I love Johnny, what I really mean is that I love Johnny and June. It's hard for me to think of them separately. Two such polar opposites: dark, somber Johnny and bubbly, effervescent June. I suppose Walk the Line was a tolerable movie (I didn't hate it, although some parts were cringe worthy for true fans), but all in all I don't think any biopic could accurately reflect the magnetism and charisma those two had, both individually, but especially together. I think these two pictures of the real deal capture that much better than any star-studded film ever could. Especially the bottom one, when they are older. It gives me chills.

This is one of my favorite Johnny Cash performances, and by "favorite" I mean I find it powerful, poignant, and heart-wrenching beyond words. Johnny died less than four months after June, but during that brief window of time he worked incessantly, as June had urged him to do before her passing. The combination of frailty and raw power in this performance stuns me every time. Happy Birthday Johnny.

*In related news: Today, to coincide with Cash's birthday, American VI Ain't No Grave, was released. I heard the song, "Redemption Day" written by Sheryl Crow and covered by Cash on this record, on the radio on the way home today, and oh my. Exquisite. I can't seem to find a streaming version of this to link you to, but you can listen to Sheryl perform it here. I can't decide which version I like better. The Cash version is more subdued and reflective, which makes you better appreciate the lyrics, but Sheryl's version is pretty rockin'. Check them both out if you get a chance.

Poo-Free

A little beauty talk today. First off, I've never really been into the whole beauty product/makeup scene. In fact, for my first date with my husband, my makeup guru sister "did my eyes up" and it's possible that my daughter may owe her very existance to Laura's handiness with eyeliner and shimmer shadow. Left to my own devices, I'm generally a sweep of powder, dash of mascara, lip gloss kind of girl. Eyeliner scares the devil out of me, and for those fancy occasions where something more dramatic than Rosebud Salve is called for, I've used the same lip color since high school (Clinique Black Honey). So, you see where I'm coming from.

But I'm not going to talk about makeup today. Nope. Today, it's all about hair, and how much I hate dealing with mine. Since Kate was born, I can't tell you how many times I've been tempted to just chop it all off. Just after she was born, I did succumb to the Katie Holmes bob craze. I was punk'd. It looked okay I suppose, but the whole theory behind the shorter hair thing is that it should be easier to manage than long locks. Unless you have Katie's in-house styling entourage, this is an utter falsehood. Get this: I was expected to use a straightening iron! Seriously! I missed my ponytail something fierce. So, I've given up on the notion of short hair. For it to be truly easy, I think you have to go way short, and while I love that look on some people, I don't think I could pull it off.

Okay, this is turning into quite the ramble for something so trivial, so I'll move it along. Style wise, ponytail/chopstick bun is where it's at for me right now, and that's cool. The real problem of late has been these wretched tangles, and just all over ickiness my hair has been suffering from. I recently stumbled upon this amazing blog, and seriously, Amy Karol is my new hero. She is a DIY goddess. She makes her own underwear and deodorant, for heavens sake! I can only dream. But, while perusing the archives, I came across a blurb about being poo (shampoo, I probably didn't need to explain that, but there you have it) free for over three months. I followed the link to here, and read up on it, and low and behold I've decided to give it a go. We'll see. I had some skepticism. Won't my hair be greasy? And won't a vinegar rinse send my vinegar hating husband running away from me holding his nose?

As I type this, I just got out of the shower after my first poo free hair washing, and I must say, the early results are very favorable. I used two mason jars (glass in the shower might not be the best suggestion, but it was all I had on hand at the moment): one for the baking soda "shampoo" which was two cups of water and two teaspoons of baking soda (I have long, thick hair, so if you have shorter, finer hair you might just need one and one), and one with the same ratio of apple cider vinegar (organic, unpasteurized for me) and water. The best thing I noticed right off the bat was the lack of tangles, which was new and refreshing. I've always had to pile on the conditioner, just to be able to get a comb through, but today, seriously, it just slid right through. Very interesting. And as for the vinegar, while it smelled in the shower, after I rinsed off I didn't notice it anymore. We'll see. I'm going to research and see about adding essential oils to the vinegar rinse, but what I don't want is vinegary smelling lavendar, peppermint, or what have you.

So, we're still in the experimental phases here, and I make no claims to longevity, but I like the idea. Not only of avoiding nasty toxins and damaging chemicals, but also not having to buy shampoo and conditioner. It seems so rebellious. I think I'll keep it a secret from the family for now though, lest they start worrying that I'm turning into the "dirty hippie" they always suspected I might become. :)

Northern Exposure

So, what with this crazy long, cold, snowy winter we're having, it goes without saying that we spend a lot of time indoors. A lot. Cabin fever has hovered over us for the past month or so. But, one of the advanages of so much indoor time is free reign to indulge in the quiet, peaceful, more sedentary activities that get thrown by the wayside during the busy spring and summer just around the corner. Just around the corner. If I say it enough, it WILL be true. Bear with me.

Anyway, we got rid of our cable last year, because we didn't want commercials and newscasters intruding into our family time. Besides, even without that, there just wasn't anything on worth watching. Not being big reality tv or sports fans, it really wasn't much of a sacrifice at all. But, lest you get the idea that we spend our evenings engaged in deep, intellectual conversation, let me add that we're hardly purists. In fact, we probably watch the television just as much (if not more) than before, but at least we control what's coming in. Netflix is my most favorite thing in the whole wide world, and we watch oodles of movies and tv shows on DVD (or instant play if we're lucky!), probably more than we should, especially in the winter.

Our favorite thing to watch lately has been Northern Exposure. Do you remember that show? It first aired in 1990, so I was, let's see, nine years old. I vaguely remember my parents watching it, but I never paid any attention to it. Even my dear hubby, who has (ahem) a few years on me, only faintly recollects watching the show. Well, my friends, we are making up for lost time. I don't know if they make television shows like this anymore or not, but I don't know of any (not that I would). It's perfect! I love shows that center around an entire town or set of characters as opposed to one or two main characters, and that's exactly how Northern Exposure is. Interweaving through the lives of the townspeople of tiny Cicely, Alaska, you get a peek at small town eccentricities combined with the rugged Alaskan wilderness lifestyle.

There's Joel, the neurotic, fish out of water New York doctor whose disdain for the rustic, backwoods ways of the town evolves over the course of the show. Then there's Maggie: the Amelia Earhardt-esque bush pilot (few people could pull off that haircut, but Janine Turner manages to do it, and still look gorgeous). Joel and Maggie's love/hate relationship drives the first few seasons.

Holling and Shelley, the May/December It couple of Cicely and owners of The Brick, the local watering hole (where one can order both breakfast and bourbon).

Then there's Maurice, the former astronaut, town bigwig, whom you can't help but love despite his grumpy, egotistical demeanor.

Ed Chigliac is a young Native American who dreams of joining the ranks of Woody Allen and Stephen Spielberg as a filmmaker. Ed's tough to explain, but if you know the show, you love him to pieces.

Marilyn Whirlwind is Joel's assistant. Her quiet wisdom is a perfect foil to Joel's neurotic, "educated" sensibilities.

And then there's Chris. Ahh, Chris. My hubby has been very tolerant of my growing crush on Chris Stevens, Cicely's DJ, minister (ordained by an ad in the back of Rolling Stone magazine), mystic, former convict, and all around sexy man of God. Perhaps it helped that I told him he looked a little like John Corbet. And he does. :)

Oh, indeed, we've become quite fond of these folks, and sometimes find ourselves talking about them, like they're real people we know. What, you've never done that? :) We're currently in the middle of season 4, and I'm getting a bit sad at the thought that there are only two more to go, but hopefully that will be just enough to get us through the rest of the winter, and then who has time for tv anyway, right?